It's a What?
by Robin Purdy
Summary: People always say that Sherlock is unable to support a family and raise a child. Just see what happens when he's put up to the test. Molly/Sherlock. This story, unless I change my mind, is now permanently discontinued. I apologize.
1. Chapter 1

_**I've never written anything like this before, so sorry if the first few chaps aren't as good as they could be. Sherlock is a bit ooc, but that's just how the story rolls. Sorry. :/**_

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><p><em><strong>Sherlock<strong>_

It was impossible... How could it be? How could this have happened?

But no matter how much he refused to belive it, Molly still stood in front of him, hand over her abdomen, looking both excited and scared.

"How long?" he asked her.

"About a month," she answered.

_A month. They had only been married for a year._

Sherlock rubbed a hand over his face, still partially trying to process the information. Usually his mind was busy, always thinking, noticing, and concluding. But this surprising news seemed to leave his head blank.

Molly and Sherlock had gotten married just a few months after he had revealed that he was alive to John. During the three years at her house, they had grown especially close and had gotten very attracted to one another. It had in fact, been a double wedding; John and his (current) wife, Mary, were wed in the same building at the same time.

Life being married was a very different one than the one he used to lead... He had to help with the groceries (which he hardly did; after the sixth time of asking him to get more milk, Molly had given up and did all of the shopping herself), cool Molly down when she had had a bad day, and be a helpful and loving partner. Not that he couldn't handle it, but it was hard, and some times it would result in him being in an awful mood and just sit in the living room, sulking, sometimes being completely silent and still, other times being loud and shooting the walls.

Molly didn't mind when he was in one of his moods. She was with the man of her dreams, after all. But today, she was scared. Frightened by the reaction he would most certainly have when he found out.

But he wasn't angry. He was just annoyed at himself for being so careless. But love often made you careless, no matter how hard you try.

"What are we going to do?" he asked, trying to make up a plan.

"Keep it!" Molly said, almost protectively.

"You know I can't take care of a... of a child!"

"You'll just have to learn then, Sherlock."

He didn't answer, but she knew that he agreed with her.

"It's going to be a girl, you know," he said, after a while.

"How-?"

"I just do."

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><p><strong><em>Hope you liked it! I personally find it a bit interesting. Don't forget to leave me a review :) One's that criticize are very welcome<em>**


	2. John's Reaction

**I'm now going to do a bit this week where they tell everyone about the news and you'll see their reactions! I'll be updating one every day. Please tell me if they seem a bit ooc.**

**_John_**

Sherlock and Molly sat across the room from him, Sherlock's arm thrown loosely around her shoulder. Why the sudden urge to visit? Sherlock and John already had plans for this Wednesday. It made no sense. They said that they had something to tell him and Mary, but what could it be? They were married, what else could happen?

Nothing, because this was Sherlock.

But why was he here? John wished that he had Sherlock's powerful mind at this moment.

Mary sat in the chair next to him, Jeffrey*, their new-born baby son, was wrapped up in her arms. He had large, sky-blue eyes, just like his mother, and his nose and chin looked exactly like John's. He was a very healthy baby, and Mary seemed to be a little over-protective of him, especially when Sherlock was around (John had told her of the multiple children who had cried when he was present).

Molly looked a bit pale, and seemed to be very nervous. They all sat in silence, until Molly gave Sherlock a small nudge with her elbow and whispered, "Why don't you tell him, Sherlock."

Sherlock took a deep breath of air, looking very nervous too, which was so unlike him.

"John," he said, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at them. "Molly and I are... going to have an addition to the family in about eight months."

At first, John was confused. What did Sherlock mean? Surely Molly's mother wasn't moving back in again, not after spending a week with Sherlock.

But then it dawned on him.

He looked at Sherlock, right eyebrow raised. "You two are... Sherlock, could I speak to you in the hall?"

Sherlock tilted his head slightly forwards, and John took it as a nod.

"We'll be back in a minute, Mary, Molly," John said as Sherlock and him both stood up and left the room.

"What the _hell _are you thinking, Sherlock?" John whispered harshly once they were out of earshot of their wives.

"Many things, right now," Sherlock answered coolly.

"I mean about...this!" John said, waving his arms dramatically over his head, not able to think of a word to describe this predicament.

"Nothing much, really," Sherlock answered.

"Do you even know how to take care of the child? Because Molly can't, she's got work."

"I've got work too!" Sherlock protested.

"But she actually earns money with her job. And do you have any space in your flat? Have you thought any of this through, at all?"

Sherlock looked slightly offended, and answered with his eyes as slits. "This is me you're talking about, of course I've thought this through!"

"Then don't come crying to me and Mary when you don't know how to handle all of the spit-up and diapers."

Sherlock turned away from John and went back into the living room, not giving him another glance. "Come on, Molly, let's go."

Molly slowly got up and started to walk from the room. Sherlock gave a curt nod to Mary and John, and then left.

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><p><strong>*Jeffery: I named him this because a nickname for it is 'Jeff', which can also be a nickname for 'Jefferson', which was the first name of the murderer in Sherlock and John's first case, A Study In Scarlet. The reason why it's Jeffrey and not Jefferson is because Jeffrey is a much more common name now-a-days.<strong>

**Pleasepleasepleaseplease tell me if John seemed ooc. I'm not sure. I mean, I think he would probably react badly, because he knows the bad sides of Sherlock more than anyone else, but inform me if I missed something.**

**Thanks for reading, my lovelies!**


	3. Mrs Hudson's Reaction

_**Mrs. Hudson**_

"That did not go as well as I had thought," Molly said timidly as she and Sherlock walked into 221b Baker Street.

"Only to be expected. Ah, good morning, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said to the landlady, pecking her on the cheek.

"My, what did I do to get this honor?" she answered, going pink in the cheeks. She had not seen him since the wedding, and almost thought he had forgotten about her.

"We have some news," Molly said, smiling.

"Well come in, come in," Mrs. Hudson said, waving them up the stairs. "I'll make some tea while you get comfy."

Several minutes later, she came bustling in with a tea-tray in her hands, slightly wobbling, and set it down on the small table in front of the couch.

Sherlock had to only take a small glance at the room to tell that it was different. No clutter, plush furniture, new, pink, flowery wallpaper.

"No one seems to be buying," Mrs. Hudson sighed, "and I thought that if I touched the rooms up a bit, people would like them more. But no."

She dropped a few sugars into her tea and stirred her spoon idly. "You say you have some news? I do like a touch of fresh gossip."

Sherlock made a miniscule smile, and Mrs. Hudson barely picked up on it.

Molly seemed about ready to burst. She whispered something in Sherlock's ear, and he nodded.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Mrs. Hudson, I'm pregnant!"

It was a bit of a shock, but Mrs. Hudson's surprise was quickly replaced by happiness. She had always like children, but was never able to have one herself.

"When's it due?"

"In seven or eight months!"

"How wonderful! Oh, my dears, I'm so happy for you!" She smiled warmly, making Molly glow. She was a bit worried about Sherlock, however, because he did not seem as happy or excited as them. In fact, he looked like he would rather be stuck in a room with Anderson and Donovan than here right now. But she knew Sherlock. He had his problems, and he would fix them sooner or later. She took a sip of tea, and started asking Molly if there were any good stores that sold baby sleepers.

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><p><strong>Reviews are preferred! Tell me if anyone was ooc, please, and wait for the next chap!<strong>


	4. Mycroft's Reaction

_**Mycroft**_

Mycroft shuffled through the papers on his desk, trying to sort them into nice, neat piles. Everything about his office had to be neat, orderly. He couldn't live without it. That was what made him and Sherlock so different; Sherlock was the one who explored new things, ready for adventure, whereas Mycroft was the one who stayed home and did all of the paperwork.

Mycrofts phone buzzed, and he flipped it out of his chest pocket, looking at the id. Sherlock. Speak of the devil. What was strange was that he was calling Mycroft, instead of texting him. He knew that this meant one thing; Sherlock wanted something.

"Hello, Sherlock," Mycroft said, trying to brace himself for what Sherlock wanted. He would try not to be surprised, although nothing truly surprised him anymore.

"Hello dear Mycroft. How long has it been since we talked?" Sherlock asked, being as polite as he could.

"About four months," Mycroft answered. "Let's just get straight to the point, Sherlock. What do you want?"

Sherlock paused for a moment, maybe thinking over his plan. Mycroft waited patiently, like he always did.

"Molly's with child," Sherlock said finally.

Mycroft was stunned. How had he not gotten this information before now? How could his spies (or information gatherers, as he liked to call them) miss that?

"How long?"

"Slightly over a month. I can tell you're surprised. You really have too much faith in them, Mycroft. I _was _able to break into Baskerville for twenty minutes, surely Molly and I could hide this information for a month."

Mycroft felt himself go a bit red in the face, but he wasn't sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Probably both. Payback for making him feel so uncomfortable, he quickly jabbed an insult at Sherlock.

"Are you sure you can even _handle _a child?"

"Don't think I haven't thought this through, Mycroft. I do think ahead, unlike some people..."

"Just making sure," Mycroft said, a frown upon his face.

The door to his office opened a crack, and his blonde-haired, bright-eyed secretary peeked her head in.

"Sir?"

"One moment, Sherlock," Mycroft said, and placed his hand over the speaker.

"What is it?"

"Your appointment is here."

"Tell him he's early."

"I did, but he insisted..."

"Fine," Mycroft said, then put the phone back up to his ear. "I have to go, Sherlock."

He hung up the phone just as his secretary re-entered, but this time with a tall, well-built, smartly dressed man.

"Hello Mr. Moran," Mycroft said, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Oh please," answered the man. "Call me Sebastian."

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><p><strong>Don't forget to review! I hope you liked it, and tell me if I had anything ooc. Thanks! <strong>

**P.S. How did you like the cliff-hanger? (:**


	5. Lestrade's Reaction

**Sorry people I know I said that I was going to post a chapter each day, but one of my friends came over and I had to Sherlock-ify them.**

**Just if you're wondering, it was a success.**

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><p><em><strong>Lestrade<strong>_

"Freak's here," Sally said, popping her head into Lestrade's office. "So is Mrs. Freak. Want me to let them in, or make them go away?"

Sherlock _and _Molly were here? "What do they want?"

"They said that they had something to tell you."

"Fine, let them in."

Sally huffed angrily, but she left and soon returned with Sherlock and Molly.

Sherlock walked in as if he owned the place, like he always did, and Molly followed behind him quietly. She looked sick; her skin was pasty and she seemed to be fighting back vomit. Sally hung by the doorway, waiting to see what Sherlock had come to say.

"What's up?" Lestrade asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Molly and I are going to have a child," Sherlock said blatantly.

Lestrade spit the coffee from his mouth, spraying it all over Sherlock and Molly. Sally laughed.

"_You? _How could you get her _pregnant_?" Sally scoffed.

"How could you spend your time with Anderson?" Sherlock said calmly back, unabashed.

"I heard that!" Anderson called from outside the door, which was still standing ajar.

"Oh please Anderson, even you know how dull and stupid you are."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Au contraire," Sherlock said with a small smile, and turned back to Lestrade.

Lestrade had not spoken a word. He just sat there, staring at them, his mouth slightly ajar, not really believing the news. How could _this _man have a child? He wasn't sure if he was a human being, even. Just...How?

"We wanted to ask you something," Molly said, looking very pale. She seemed to be wanting to sit down, but didn't take the chair right behind her. How strange.

"We wanted to know if...if you wanted to be the Godfather."

"Of _your _child?" Lestrade said, shocked, looking directly at Sherlock. "What about John? Shouldn't he be the Godfather? You two are closer than any two people I ever met, friend wise, I mean."

Sherlock seemed a bit saddened by Lestrade's remark. "We're not really seeing eye-to-eye at the moment."

"But this is a life-long choice you're making here, Sherlock! Just because you two are having a row now doesn't mean he can't be your child's Godfather in the future," Lestrade said, trying to knock some sense into him.

Sherlock looked long and hard into Lestrade's eyes. Molly reached for his arm, and grasped his hand lovingly, making small patterns on it with her thumb, trying to comfort him. He looked hurt, as if someone he knew and trusted had just shot him. But the hurt wasn't meant for Lestrade; it was for John.

"Please," Molly said, braking both men from their trance. She had been looking at Sherlock, and she was wounded by his hurt. That was love. Being more hurt than the person who's injured, because you care for them so much that having them in the slightest bit of pain is like a thousand knives stabbing your heart. "It would mean the world to us if you were her Godfather."

"_Her?_" Lestrade asked. "I thought you had only known-"

"Yes, well, y'know Sherlock... And he is usually correct about most things..."

Lestrade rolled his eyes. Wouldn't Sally and Anderson have a field day if they found out Sherlock might have guessed incorrectly.

"Yeah, I know. And Sherlock," he said, locking eyes with him. "I would be... _honored _to be your daughter's ('or son's,' he said under his breath) Godfather."

Sherlock smiled, although it was not genuine. "Thank you, Lestrade." And gripping Molly's hand even tighter, they left.

"Oh God, what did I just get myself into?" Lestrade asked himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.

This was definitely not his division.

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><p><strong>This was the last of the "Reactions". Hope you liked it! Don't forget to review!<strong>


	6. The Ultrasound

**_5 months_**

_**Molly**_

It was time for the Ultrasound.

The time where they would find out if what was inside Molly really _was _a baby girl. Molly half expected the doctor to say that it was some strange alien, because that's what it felt like every time it moved. She still hadn't fully realized that she was pregnant. That she would have a baby. That she would raise and care an actual human being alongside a high-functioning sociopath.

She was very happy, but scared. She had never given birth or taken care of a baby... What if she messed up? What if something bad happened, and there was a miscarriage?

Her mother once had a miscarriage with Molly's would-be baby brother. Molly was only eight when it happened. She couldn't understand why her mother did not come back home with a little baby boy, laughing and cooing over him. Later, when it was all explained to her, she had silently sworn that she would never get pregnant, so she would never deal with the chance of having a miscarriage. But that didn't work out. Because she was pregnant. But she didn't really care anymore.

She squeezed Sherlock's hand, and he softly squeezed her's. She knew that he was nervous, even though he didn't act or look like it. But she could see it in his eyes. She knew he was worried about how he would take care of the baby once it did come, but he had nothing to fear. She would take care of most of it.

The doctor beside her finally called Molly to her senses as he pointed to the screen with a fuzzy blur on it. "There it is," he said, smiling.

Molly looked at the picture in wonder. She could see her own baby, this thing that was living inside of her, and it certainly was _not _a strange alien.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" Sherlock said, only glancing at the screen. He held himself high, as proud as a lion, awaiting praise from an amazed doctor. But it didn't come. The doctor just looked at Sherlock, and Molly was not sure of the doctor's emotion. Maybe... Amusement? She was sure of Sherlock's emotion, though. Confusion.

"No, actually," the doctor said, a small smile barely playing on his lips that Molly was barely able to see. "I think it's a boy."

For a moment, Sherlock stared silently at the doctor in confusion and a little disappointment. Molly felt a little disappointed too; she had been hoping for a girl. But Sherlock wasn't disappointed because they weren't having a girl; it was because he was wrong.

But Sherlock was only silent for a few seconds. He suddenly turned to the screen, studying it. "Are you positive?" he demanded.

"Quite," the doctor said with a little laugh. Sherlock turned to the doctor, glaring at him.

"I'm only joking, you know," the doctor said, a little taken aback by Sherlock's reaction to his chuckle. "It is a girl. But how did you know?"

"I just did," Sherlock said stubbornly.

He did not speak again for the rest of the day.

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><p><strong>Reviews please! Please tell me if anything is wrong with the Ultrasound process or anything... I've never been to one and so I don't know how they work : I'll try to get the next chapter up quickly :3**


	7. The Birth

_**The Birth**_

_**John Watson**_

John had decided to stop lecturing Sherlock on getting Molly pregnant and deciding to keep the baby, but, what was done was done, and no amount of yelling or silent treatments was going to stop that.

They were at a crime scene at the moment, analysing a dead body that had mysteriously dropped down upon the middle of the crowded street from thin air. Sherlock was bending down over the body, his eyes zipping around, drinking in every detail at a glance, whereas the others around him would be able to gather that much information in a week.

"How far along is she?" Sally asked, but for once, without a sneer. She actually looked like she cared, and Sherlock paused and looked up at her questioningly, looking at her for some sign that she was joking. But, he concluded, that she in fact was not joking, and straightened up, nearly towering over her.

"Nine months," he said, a note of caution in his tone.

"That means it could come along any day now!" Anderson snapped while depositing some evidence into a little baggy. "You should be with her 24/7!"

Sally looked at Anderson with a look that said,"I love you so much but please shut up."

Sherlock glared at Anderson and said, "I think catching murderers who might become serial killers is a much more important job than becoming a house maid for Molly. Besides, Mrs. Hudson and Mary are looking after her; she'll be fine."

He turned back to his work, and everyone started to get busy talking about the impending storm above us. John took note of the dark storm clouds and moved under a table umbrella, hoping that they would get home before it started to pour.

John's phone buzzed, and he picked it up, Mary's voice screeching with happiness, "John! It's coming! It's coming!"

He could just imagine her jumping all around Molly, telling her tips, as Mrs. Hudson called a cab to bring Molly to the hospital.

"Why haven't you called Sherlock?" John asked, glancing at Sherlock, completely unaware of what was going on.

"We tried calling him but he wouldn't answer," she said, her voice sounding a little sadder.

"Don't worry, I'll tell him. We'll be there in ten."

John turned and called out to Sherlock, "It's coming!"

Sherlock, at first, seemed as though he did not hear, but before John could tell him again, he muttered, "Dull."

Everyone around him stopped what they were doing and stared at him.

"What do you mean, 'dull'?" he said.

"I mean, dull, as in mentally or physically slow or lacking spirit; in other words, it brings me no interest."

"But it's your _baby_!" he yelled, but Sherlock did not answer.

He called back Mary.

"He says that he doesn't want to go."

"_What?" _

"I know, I know."

"Is he insane?"

John heard someone in the background ask something to Mary, and she told them, "He says he doesn't want to come."

There was a collection of shouts from the other end, and then Mary said to John, "Put the phone on speaker. Molly wants to talk to him."

"...Ok, but I don't think..."

"Just _do it_."

John did as he was told, and held the phone out in Sherlock's direction.

"_Sherlock!"_

It was Molly.

"I swear that if you don't come over right this second, I _will_-"

"What, Molly? Kill me? You know Moriarty said that, and even he wasn't succesful," Sherlock said coolly.

There was a pause, as if Molly was thinking of something worse than killing him. Finally, she screamed out, "I'll tamper with your experiments!"

Sherlock looked startled, but he tried to hide his expression from his voice. "You wouldn't."

"You know I will!" She said, and the phone went dead.

Sherlock jumped up, and ran to the main road, hailing a cab.

John smiled to himself as he ran after him.

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><p><strong>Please don't forget to review!<strong>


	8. 3 Hours

_**3 Hours**_

_**Sherlock**_

He was holding a baby. Sherlock Holmes was holding a_ baby, _not to mention smiling sweetly down at it and cooing over it, or that it was his own.

She really was beautiful, too, Sherlock thought. She had his complicated, color-changing eyes and his curly sable hair. She also had her mother's nose and nervous smile.

Surprising that a baby could have a nervous smile, Sherlock chuckled to himself.

But a lot of things surprised him these days.

Molly was sleeping, slightly snoring in the plain hospital bed. The doctors said that they could leave tomorrow morning, which would be another 12 hours.

They had named her Alessandra, Alessa for short. It had been one of Molly's favourite names as a child, and she had always wished she could change her's to it. But this was good enough for her.

Sherlock liked it a bit himself. It derived from the Greek word "Alexo", which meant "to defend, help". It meant to strangers that she would be a strong character.

John and Mary had left to get dinner in the hospital's cafeteria, and Mrs. Hudson was in the hospital's tiny gift shop, getting a surprise for Molly when she woke up.

Sherlock was glad he had come; he was facinated by the process, and asked the Obstetrician many questions, all the while correcting his grammar. After a while he was asked to leave, for he was being too much of a distraction.

Mycroft had phoned about an hour ago, asking how it went, although Sherlock was pretty sure he already knew from his "sources". But it made Sherlock feel happier, in a kind of sense. He wasn't sure why, he had always detested his brother. Maybe it was just his fatherly hormones kicking in, making him turn soft to family.

Alessa yawned widely and nuzzled into Sherlock's chest. He wrapped the pink blanket the hospital had given them tightly around her and sat down in the spare chair in the room. For once, Sherlock felt completely content.

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><p><strong>Please give a review! Constructive critism is VERY welcome!<strong>

**By the way, the name is pronounced "ahl-e-SAHN-drah" if you're confused...**


	9. 4 Weeks

**Sorry for such the long wait! I've just been so busy doing summer stuff! Please forgive me :)**

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><p><strong><em>4 Weeks<em>**

**_Molly Hooper_**

Molly was bending over Mr. Robert Cliff, examining the odd bruises that were on his arms. Even though it had only been about four weeks since the birth of the baby, she was at work, although her employer had said she could have two months leave. But Molly had insisted on coming back; it was either her or Sherlock, and since Sherlock never got any income from his line of work anyway, she decided that she should be the one working. Besides, looking after Alessa might lower his ego. Or make him worst than ever.

Sherlock _was_ very proud. He never parted from Alessa, even to eat and sleep. He loved her so much that Molly was a little jealous. It probably was a good thing she had resumed her job, for, now that she thought about it, Sherlock would never do his job if it meant leaving Alessa, even if it was for an hour or two. Or, God forbid, he actually would take Alessa with him on his adventures.

She really didn't like the thought of that.

Lestrade had been over a few days after Alessa was born to see his new godchild. She thinks Sherlock regretted the decision of making Lestrade the godfather of his child, but what was done was done, and not even the great Sherlock Holmes could turn back time.

Alessa seemed to like Lestrade, although she seemed to like _everyone_ she met, and for a split second Molly wondered if she would have liked Moriarty. It made her shiver, and she thanked her lucky stars that Moriarty was dead and that Alessa would never get the chance to meet him.

Molly's phone buzzed, distracting her from her thoughts.

_I need your help -SH_

Molly sighed.

I just got here. Deal with it yourself -MH

She turned back to her work, but her phone buzzed again.

_I don't know what to do -SH_

That was a first. Molly decided that it was better to speak to him rather than text.

"Molly?" Sherlock sounded panicked. Sherlock Holmes _never _sounded panicked.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" Molly sighed, wondering if she would be able to finish examining Robert Cliff that day.

"Alessa... it came from... there's white, there's white everywhere!" Sherlock now sounded like he was going insane.

"Sherlock, I'm coming, don't worry, I'll be there as fast as I can," Molly said, already putting on her coat. She was now scared and confused, thinking of all the things that could have possibly gone wrong in a half hour. Could Alessa have probably ingested something poisonous? Or perhaps she had gone missing? _But she couldn't have gone missing,_ a logical voice in her head said, _she can't even crawl yet._

But mothers were not logical, especially when they thought their children were in danger.

She threw some money at the cabbie, not caring about the change, and dashed into their flat, skipping every other stair until she reached the baby's room. She burst through the door.

Sherlock was standing over a screeching Alessa, pale, with a noticeable, worried, frown on his face. White spit-up was on his clothes and Alessa, and Molly immediately understood. She suddenly took control of the situation, and pushed Sherlock off to the side while he started blubbering about what had all happened.

"...I was holding her, and suddenly this white..._stuff_ came shooting out of her mouth, and she started crying-"

"Could you get a towel?" Molly asked, completely ignoring him.

He left to get the item, and came back almost seconds later.

"Will she be alright?"

Molly looked up at him, and she noticed how stressed and worried he looked. Her stomach dropped, feeling horrible about how terrible he looked.

"Of course, it's just a bit of spit-up."

"Then why is she crying?"

"Wouldn't you if you had just thrown up for the first time? Just get her a bottle of warm milk and she'll be fine."

Sherlock nodded and went to fetch the bottle while Molly cleaned up the rest of Alessa. She then took her in her arms and rocked her slowly back and forth, calming her down. When Sherlock returned, Alessa was back to her usual calm state. He set the bottle on the dresser and Molly handed her back to him, and his expression changed almost immediately.

His face softened, and he gazed at Alessa like she was the only thing in the world. He started humming, something that Molly didn't believe was possible until a few weeks ago, and Alessa closed her eyes.

Molly left, knowing that Sherlock no longer cared if she was there anymore. She sighed with relief as she got into a cab, now knowing that her daughter was safe.

But when she was leaning over Robert Cliffs again, she started worrying about Sherlock's health. She had not seen him eat nor sleep for a few weeks ago, and that is a long time, even for Sherlock. She couldn't tell how sick and tired he was until she saw him today. Not to mention he had acted like the world was ending when Alessa had been crying.

Maybe Molly could take a couple of days off to take care of Alessa and slip Sherlock a few sleeping pills in a meal that she would force him to eat. It wouldn't hurt him to get away from Alessa for _that_ long.

Would it?

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><p><strong>If I get anything wrong with how to take care of a baby, please notify me.<strong>

**I hoped you liked this chapter, and the next one probably won't take as long to update.**


	10. 5 Months

_**5 months**_

_**John Watson**_

"John, hold Jeff for a second," Mary said, pushing the baby boy into John's arms and pulling out her wallet. Jeff squirmed in John's arms, making him very difficult to hold, and John was very relieved when Mary took the baby back after she had paid the cabbie. Jeff was getting to be a very big boy, much larger than most one-year-olds, and had been progressing very quickly with his walking. John and Mary were very proud.

John knocked on the door of Molly and Sherlock's flat, wondering how Jeff would react to Alessa. Jeff only had a few playmates, all boys that were his age. He had never met a girl younger than him. John would have to keep a sharp eye out.

John could hear the running of footsteps coming down the stairs and the opening of door latches. Molly peeped out from behind the door. "John, Mary," she said, smiling widely, giving them both half-hugs. "Sherlock's sleeping."

"Sherlock, sleeping? How..?" John looked at Molly's mischevious smile. "Sleeping pills?"

She nodded. "I put some in his dinner."

"It's about time he got some rest, the poor man," Mary said. John could tell that she respected Sherlock a lot more after she saw him taking care of Alessa the day she was born. "When was the last time he took a nap?"

"I can't remember," Molly said with a heavy sigh. Then, remembering that Alessa didn't like being left alone for too long, she let the Watsons inside and led them up the stairs.

They entered the baby room, and it was certainly more pink and messy than Jeff's. Mary was a bit OCD, and could never rest until everything was clean and orderly. She tried to resist the urge to pick up some of the toys.

"So sorry for the mess," Molly said, picking up a stuffed rabbit and a rattle, throwing them into an old toy trunk. "We forgot that you were coming." Molly blushed. "I didn't mean that... what I meant was-"

"You're fine," John said, smiling.

Mary set Jeff down, and he immediately picked up one of the toys and started playing with it.

"Alessa hasn't had her lunch yet," Molly said, hurrying into the kitchen. "Would any of you like some food?"

"No, thank you," John said.

"Mary, or John, whichever one of you isn't busy- Could you get Alessa from her crib?" Molly called softly from the kitchen.

Since Mary was too busy getting Jeff to stop eating one of the toys, John walked over to the crib, where Alessa was. She stared quietly up at him, her blue eyes seeming to search him just like Sherlock's did. She reached out to him, wanting him to hold her.

What strange behaviour for a child her age. Jeff wouldn't let anyone but Mary hold him until he was about six months old, not even John, and here Alessa was, ready for a complete stranger to pick her up.

John took her from her crib, and she giggled. "Hello," he said in his talking-to-a-cute-baby voice. Her face lit up with a smile. Molly's smile. "You're gonna eat, yes you are!"

"You're speaking in that strange voice again, dear," Mary said with a laugh.

Molly entered the room. "Just set her down there, John." She pointed to a spot on the floor that was clear of toys and surrounded by a pile of pillows. He did as he was told, and Molly started feeding Alessa mushy baby food.

John and Mary turned back to Jeff, but he was no longer interested in his toy. It lay forgotten beside him as he pointed to Alessa.

"Gah?" he asked. He still was unable to form understandable words, but the message was clear; _Who is that?_

"Take a look at your new friend, Jeffy," Mary said, picking him up and moving over to Alessa. "Her name is A-less-a."

"Wessa," Jeff said, trying to pronounce the word.

John, Mary, and Molly laughed at how adorable he was, forgetting that Sherlock was sleeping in the room next to them, and did not notice when he stepped into the room, yawning sleepily.

"What're you doing here?" Sherlock asked, making them all jump.

"Guess you forgot too," John said, giving a wink to Molly so she would understand that he was only joking.

"I thought you were coming on May 30th," Sherlock said, rubbing his eyes.

"It _is _May 30th," John said. This worried John. How could _Sherlock_ forget the date? He walked over to Sherlock and whispered in his ear, "Could we talk for a second?"

Sherlock nodded and John pulled him into the kitchen. It was strange to see that it looked normal. No experiments on the table, no eyes in the microwave, actual food laying on the counter.

"When was the last time you were outside?" John asked in a demanding tone.

"I-I don't remember," Sherlock said.

John could tell when Sherlock had last been outside. It didn't take a great detective to figure it out.

"The day Alessa was born," John said, folding his arms. Sherlock looked at him, eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Yes. Dammit Sherlock, you're killing yourself. Don't you see that? Molly had to slip you sleeping pills so you could get a few hours of rest."

Sherlock sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. "She did?"

John nodded. Sherlock rubbed a hand over his face.

"Sherlock, look, Alessa can live without you being around her twenty-four seven. And if you keep this up, what you're doing, it'll hurt all of you. Molly, you, and Alessa. So stop it. Get a case. Step outside at least once a day."

Sherlock nodded, and they both returned to the baby room in silence, and John was hoping he had at least gotten a bit of sense knocked ino Sherlock.

* * *

><p><strong>Eh. Sick Sherlock is not fun to write! But it had to be done...Hopefully he'll get better ;) Please, please, <em>please <em>review! I love reading them!**


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